White Van
by Seven Loves You So Much
Summary: When Clare disappears, how will Eli and Adam cope? What happens when they are faced with the prospect of her returning? How will she adjust?
1. Chapter 1

**Sorry, but this story was just asking to be written!**

…**.**

Clare Edwards was missing.

Eli still couldn't believe it; he hadn't exactly grasped it yet. He heard the news reporter go on about how she hadn't come home from church. How witnesses said they saw a man walk up to her and ask her for directions, and how she willingly went along with him, convinced she was pointing out the apple trees on the west side of the church.

Eli had been able to stand religion before, but this was it. He hated religion more than ever now, what kind of God would let an amazing girl like Clare get kidnapped? Nah, no God was involved.

He had watched enough damn criminal and FBI shows to know what happens next: She gets raped, then killed and dumped into a spot millions of mile away.

Great.

He was finally adjusting to hoarding, finally getting his room clean. I mean, how could he even survive after this? Clare was his rock, his favorite thing to see.

_You are my sunshine,_

_My only sunshine_

_You make me happy_

_When skies are grey._

It had been a somewhat normal day. He had woken up late, watched the late news. Went to the comic book store, called Clare. When she didn't answer, he wracked his brain to try to remember if he had done anything to upset her. Thinking that maybe she was having an off day, he shrugged it off. He didn't think that when he came home later, there would be an Amber alert on a missing girl by the name of Clare Edwards.

When it came on the T.V., he walked right by it and made his way up the stairs when he heard the alto voice of the news reporter say, "Clare Edwards has been missing for six hours," he had frozen n the spot. His brain froze trying to comprehend. His mother (who had been watching the news) gasped softly at the familiar name and stared at the screen, shocked. Eli walked numbly down the stairs and walked slowly to the living room, where his mother had already turned up the volume.

He sat down on the couch, his eyes wide and his lips felt like they were glued together. They sat and listened to the story. After it was done, Eli stood up quickly, and in an unfamiliarly calm voice said, "I think I'll call Adam." The voice was higher, and when you looked past the collected façade, you could tell there was some anxiety behind it; him afraid of his voice cracking.

He retreated upstairs and took his cell phone out of his pocket. He dialed Adams number, forgetting he had him on speed dial. Before he could say anything, though, he could already hear Adam sobbing, and Eli numbly remembered Adam saying once that his mother prefers watching the night news. His mother must have picked out the name and already told Adam. While Adam was crying on the other side, Eli just hung up.

He sat on the edge of his bed, and started crying loudly. He paced around the room, even resorting to throwing things. He yelled out curse words and made sure at least half the neighborhood heard him by the volume he was screaming at. It felt good not to be in control.

…..

Adam had been upstairs in his room, playing Starcraft on his computer. He stretched out and sighed in happiness as he felt the tendons pop. He was leaning forward, his hand hovering over the mouse when he heard his mother yell, "Boys!" in a frantic voice that he had not heard before. He rolled his eyes, thinking of what horrible timing his mother had decided to yell at him for.

He stepped out his room only to see Drew at the top of the stairs. "What did you do this time?" he whispered to Drew as they both walked down the steps.

Drew shrugged. "I was about to ask you the same thing."

Adam continued down, now feeling a little uncomfortable. Maybe it _wasn't _their fault this time. They walked into the living room only to see a scared looking Mrs. Torres and a T.V. screen with Clare's picture on it.

Confused at this strange sight, Adam opened his mouth to ask his mother something, but the T.V. reporters voice had interrupted. "No sights have been made of Clare Edwards, but we do know that the man was driving a white van." Adam's eyes widened. This couldn't mean what he thought it meant, right?

Audra Torres cleared her throat. "Clare Edwards has been kidnapped," she said in a high, damaged voice. "She was your friend, right Adam?"

Adam got tears in his eyes, and nodded with his mouth still opened. Before anyone could say anything else though, he scrambled up the stairs and locked himself in his room. He didn't even check to see if the game was paused, it didn't matter. That game wasn't real life, but this was.

….

Clare hadn't suspected a thing.

She had honestly and truly believed that when this tall and overbearing man with a strange smile asked her where the prized church apple trees were, she trusted him.

He had even motioned about picking some of the apples for his kids, and Clare's heart swelled with compassion for this kind father. She graciously let him follow her and was happy until she felt this sharp pain in her back. She felt her vision go fuzzy and tried blinking to focus. She was slowly losing control of her body, it was tingling. This sensation felt exactly like the laughing gas they gave you at the dentists, but she didn't feel like laughing at all.

Her mind was barely there when he threw her over his back and carried her into his white van. She could barely comprehend what was happening, and she didn't like it. Her mind wasn't disembodied, though. She wondered if this was how Darcy felt when she was given those roofies. Clare let her mind wander, seeing as it was the only thing she could do.

_You'll never know dear,_

_How much I love you,_

_Please don't take, my sunshine away_

….

**Okay, so out of blue I just had this idea and I just really hope you like it. I am sorry for staring another story, but I promise a new chapter of Limousine will be published tomorrow. Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

She had been missing for weeks.

Three weeks and six days to be exact. Eli had been counting.

That was the only stable thing about him at the moment; he no longer competed in useless tasks like communicating. Adam was almost the same, only at least he spoke. They both were antisocial together, and neither of them minded.

Eli hadn't been eating; his face was gaunt and hallow. He didn't mean to skip eating, it was just an unconscious behavior he developed now and he never even noticed it.

Adam started burning himself again. He started littering his skin with burn marks and didn't even bother covering them up anymore. He would run his hands across the damaged skin; and would get gooseflesh each time. Every day that Clare didn't show up, he would take his lighter and greet it like an old friend.

Eli wasn't one much for self-harm, but the thought crossed his mind more than once. A couple of times he would go into his art drawer, take out his X-Acto knife and stare at it for a few seconds, hold it over his skin, then let out a deep agitated breath as he put it away.

Eli had even resorted to going to church. Just to see if he prayed that _one more time _then he would finally get her back.

Nope.

…

"You know what they say about 24 hours?" Adam asked suddenly, looking up from his burn covered arm at their usual lunch table.

Eli, who had been sitting across from him, just questioned him with his eyes; afraid to see if his voice still worked.

"They say if someone doesn't turn back up in the first 24 hours, they're most likely dead."

The moment the words were out of Adam's mouth, Eli stood up abruptly and walked away huffily. Adam closed his eyes and breathed through his nose. He didn't mean to be so harsh; just trying to tell the truth.

To say that he wasn't affected by Clare's disappearance would be like saying that he actually liked being a girl; a huge lie.

She was one of the first people that accepted him. And he admitted that before she and Eli got together he had the smallest of crushes on her. I mean, it was normal because she was of the female species, and attractive and he was a male. But, when he saw how her face lit up when Eli entered the room, he had a secret smile to himself as he metaphorically stepped back.

But, he couldn't help but feel that he was betraying her. She was the one who got him to stop burning, and now he was burning because of her. _This whole world is so damn ironic, _he thought to himself.

Now, whenever he closed his eyes to go to sleep, all he could see was the photo they had up on the T.V.

It was a photo of her smiling with her mouth open at a Christian concert or something, it was the most recent picture her parents had of her.

Now, all he saw were the bright eyes filled with excitement, the smile that hung open, revealing pearly whites, the way she waved happily at the camera, not knowing what was in store for her.

Putting his head in his hands, he desperately felt the need to burn, only, for the first time, he distinctly heard Clare say, "Burning won't make anything better." He snapped his head up. Upon not seeing anyone that looked like Clare, he took a deep breath, now concerned with the fact that he was hearing things.

…..

Storming down the hall, Eli found his one safe sanctum; the boys bathroom.

But not just the boy's bathroom, the men's staff bathroom. All the toilets in there were busted so no teachers went in there, and he found that easily he could cry all he wanted in there.

He knew that Adam had not meant to sound so . . . inhumane, but he couldn't help but feel angry.

He slumped against the tiled wall and let himself reminisce.

He had been such a douche, he admitted that. When he denied her at the whole Romeo and Juliet project thing; he felt like he could kill someone. But then again, given the circumstances; that would've been no help at all with his mental state.

Now, all he could think about was the way her eyes sparkled. They way that when she was sad, they would shine. When she was ecstatic; they were too. It was like they had a life of their own. But the truth was, his favorite thing about her wasn't her eyes.

It was her hair.

The way it framed her face and formed perfect little curls and was so soft only made him love her more. The fact that he could just run his hand through her hair and she wouldn't mind drove him crazy.

"I love the way your hair feels too."

He froze. He blinked his eyes shut, afraid of what he would see if he opened them. It could be Clare, or it could be a demon of Satan. Deciding that he would risk it, he tentatively opened his green orbs and when he was found with nothing, he shook his head, clearing his thoughts.

He suddenly felt good. It was the first time in a long time without Clare that he felt good. He smiled a great large grin. He looked around and said crazily, "I love you, you know." He waited for a moment, and when he got no response, his grin faltered. He sighed sadly, realizing that he was just going crazy.

"Me too."

…..

Adam was walking down the hall, very quickly too. He was still thinking about whether he should tell Eli or not about his "experience" with Clare, but when he saw Eli practically skipping to him, he figured Eli heard her too.

"Okay, so either we're both crazy, or we have a connection or something." Eli said the second that Adam got within earshot.

Adam suddenly felt giddy, happy with a thought that had just occurred. "So, I think that this definitely means she's still alive."

Eli grinned back, "Exactly my point, Adam my friend."

….

Clare turned the gun on her attacker.

He held up his hands in surrender with a smirk on his face as he said slyly, "C'mon Clare-Bear. Put the gun down."

She shook her head fervently, this gun was going nowhere.

He made a move to step forward and she shot him in the chest.

Time seemed to stop.

He clutched his chest, wheezing, and he fell in front of her. She looked in disgust at the gun she had in her hand. She hated this weapon, and she wanted to get rid of hit. She dropped it to the floor, where it made a loud _Clang!_

She ran as fast as she could out of that place and onto the streets.

It was still daylight out, and she thanked God for that.

She ran into a restaurant where from the sight of her, a waitress dropped her pen and order pad and ran over to her.

Once she had Clare in her arms, Clare fainted; finally getting the dreamless sleep she wanted.

….

Eli could hear his bedroom door open, but he kept his eyes closed. He knew it was late, and he honestly wondered why someone would visit at this time of night, and he felt peeved.

"She's back."

…..

**Ouch!**

**Sorry for leaving that cliffhanger there, just wanted to excite you for the next chapter that will be coming soon!**

**I just wanted to tell y'all, that I love all the amazing feedback. Please keep it coming. And if you want to follow me on twitter look up my username: Lalanyay.**

**BTW, this took so many rewrites and I am going to hit the hay.**

**P.S. If you feel I had her come back so soon, well what I planned was to write a story on how she coped when she came **_**back. **_**Not her whole absence, but I will be touching on that subject soon, so stick around!**

**Nighty night!**


	3. Chapter 3

Everything looked the same.

Her bed was still a little messy; her sheets halfway down the bed. Some of her clothes lay across the floor. A book bent where she had stopped reading still lying face down on the bedside table. There was dust in little places in her absence, but she paid no attention to them.

She walked around the room after closing the door. She had not spoken a word since she had gotten found; all questions were found with nods of the head. She looked at all the happy pictures that she had all across the room. _Of course, surrounding oneself with happy memories is only to tell yourself that you shouldn't succumb to the emptiness and darkness, _she thought snidely. Clare knew a fair share of psychology and she knew now that where her mind was headed was not a god place.

Still walking around, she noticed a particular picture with Alli. Alli had been posing a cute face while Clare stuck her tongue out playfully in it. _How could I have not known? This is what happens when you let yourself get careless; you mess up. Alli messed up and she was sent to a different school. I messed up and was sentenced to Hell._

The place she had been was certainly her own little Hell. The man was perverted the groin but also in the mind. There were many a time when she walked in on him skinning a human. The décor of where she was being held had been human skin sewed together. Lampshades were skin, couches were skin, and the soap she had used in the few times she got a shower was made of human fat.

Most of the time she shut her eyes and ignored it. Trying to get it out of her head that the fact that she was using another human to wash herself was horrible.

Sometimes she had such horrible thoughts about the skin too. Sometimes when she would be unconscious; and she would dream of eating the skin. She would dream of how delectable the smooth skin would taste; how easy it would be to just bite and get a taste. The only reason why she had these terrifying thoughts were because she would see the man who kidnapped her eating humans.

Shaking those thoughts from her head, she also contemplated how childish she was back then. Show little she knew about the real world. Most of the time when a missing persons report would come on the T.V. she would just feel a twang of sadness; kind of feeling bad for the person. And within ten minutes she would be back to her normal, happy self.

She was sure that the police didn't hear the full story (probably because she wouldn't speak) but they just wrote him off as the regular kidnapper. Older man? Check. Rapist? Check. Cannibal? Not even thought about.

She looked at the picture once more before chucking it in the trashcan. Her childhood was gone, why be reminded of it?

….

She had just walked past him.

Eli would have thought that maybe she would have spared him a glance; him being her boyfriend and all. But instead she just walked past people into her house. She had been walking quickly, and he could tell by the way her brow was only the slightest bit furrowed that she was distressed.

He had kind of been expecting a better reaction. Sheepishly, he admitted to himself that he envisioned Clare looking around; distressed, but upon seeing Eli run into his arms and cry, "Oh Eli! I missed you so much!" and he would rub her back and speak calming words.

But, when she was walking into her house for a split second their eyes met. Instead of seeing the slight sparkle that would sometimes fill in for the eternal shine they had, he saw nothing.

His mom once told him of the older brother she had. Her brother had type 1 diabetes and was a teenager while she was in fifth grade. One day, he went into diabetic shock and as her father carried him out of the house; she saw his eyes.

His mother described them as being completely blank. There was no humor no laughter, no recognition at all. It was almost as if the eyes were taunting her, as if saying: _go to Hell._

Clare had the same eyes, blank but with a little edge that drove him over the brink. He had loved her eyes; but now he hated them.

He hated how they didn't light up the slightest when she saw him. I t was like she said to him, "Who are you?" or like a slap in the face. Only, this slap felt so much pain. Just thinking of a slap that hard caused him to have heat come to his face from aftershock.

It was like she was a ghost; she looked like one, too. He would never call Clare fat but the little pudginess she had was gone definitely. Her short hair was now longer, lanky and unkempt along with greasiness that must have come from washing her hair with just water.

Yeah, he'd been through trauma before but Julia's death had been quick. She had left this world before she could even experience the chaotic pain of a car accident. The doctors said she had died instantly and that the death was mostly painless.

The fact that Clare was still alive and facing this much pain, though, had hurt him deeply. As much as he didn't want to say it; he felt bad that she lived. She deserved to be rid of the pain; yet the only way for that was death. Shock therapy would only be used for younger kids; and Clare was not young. And the thought of some doctors trying to shock the memories out of her was sick, inhumane, and unbearable.

Hypnosis therapy would only be good for conjuring up old memories that had been stowed away in the recesses of her mind. That would actually be the opposite of what they were going for.

And if he still knew the same Clare, regular therapy would not help. In fact, talking to someone about her problems was hard for her even before The Incident.

…

Clare had thrown out every single photo she had on display in her room. She took anything that was cutesy, or was supposed to resemble happiness and put them in the back of her closet.

Breathing deeply, she got out old art supplies and took out black paint and thought to herself a little. Her parents would be shocked if she painted her startling white room black. Then again, a room was supposed to show what you feel and your interests, and all she could think of right now as black. Or blackness of the dark.

She had always been afraid of the dark even past the age where one would usually stop being scared. But right now, her soul felt at one with the dark, and she accepted it.

….

**Yeeeeaaah, that was more of a filler chapter. I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in forever, I've just been busy and lazy. I promise another chapter is coming in a few days, so be aware!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm SO sorry that I haven't updated in a while, I just had my appendix drained and I've been in the hospital. Bad part: It hurt a lot. Good Part: I have THE COOLEST scar (even though it's little.)**

…

Dancing was always a passion of Clare's.

She loved the feeling of labored breathing afterwards, the way little sweat beads glistened at the top of her forehead, the way that when she did dance the crowd just _stared._ Unknown to many people, she was in ballet. She was a serious dancer and often danced in her bedroom.

Though, when she got kidnapped it all changed. The second night He had her He sat her down in the living room. He stretched lazily on the couch, watching as she nervously sat in the chair across from him. He waved his hand at her and smirked a little. "Well," he said. "What are you waiting for?" he asked while grinning at her sadistically

Clare had flinched when he first spoke at her, and she was confused at the thing he was telling her. Her jaw trembled a little and she felt her body tense up ever so slightly. "I don't know what you mean," she said, her voice trembling and scared for fear she would upset him.

The grin grew larger. "Dance for me."

Opening her mouth to ask the sickening question: _how do you know that? _But decided not to, deciding that her kidnapper had probably done research for her.

Slowly standing up and shaking head to toe, Clare walked to the middle of the room. 'Where's the music?" she asked quietly. He just shook his head. "No music."

She gulped and started beginning one of the routines she knew the best. It was an excerpt from Swan Lake, and she found the silence as she danced suffocating. Though, He didn't care. He just watched her lazily with a perverted look in his eyes as he sipped his beer.

That night, resting on her cot with a single pillow, she threw up and was only comforted with the thought that she would be alive tomorrow and nothing had happened to her yet. Instead of getting up and risking the chance to ask him for new sheets or a pillow, she found herself flipping the pillow on the other side and resting on the ground.

When she had woken up, He had walked into the room and upon seeing the mess she had caused that night, chuckled to him slightly. "Now, now Clare," He chided as if she were a little girl. "We can't make messes like these. "Guess you'll have to sleep in my bed tonight." He said before walking away. Pausing at the doorway, he suddenly spun around and faced a terrified Clare. He walked back sharply and tucked a lock of hair behind Clare's ear before kissing her forehead tenderly.

Another night was spent in fear. Clare was sitting on the absolute edge of the bed, forbidding herself to sleep in case something was to happen.

…..

Eli rapped his fist hastily on Clare's door.

It was almost noon, and he had told himself that right now was the best time to talk to her- rather sooner than later.

He could hear shuffling behind the door and his heart sped up to the fast beat of a humming bird, or a broken metronome. When He saw Clare's mother opening up the door, he didn't even need to say any words before he was let in. He bounded up the steps of the stairs, and he trembled with excitement as shivers went down his spine.

When he reached Clare's door, he felt a flurry of emotions and panic as knocked quietly on it. It was as if the butterflies in his stomach had reproduced to make millions more as they fluttered around.

"Come in." came the cold, hard voice from the inside. It was the first Eli had heard of her speaking when she had come back and the voice (though it belonged to her) did not sound as her own. He slowly opened up the door, afraid of what he might see if he walked into her room.

Instead of picturing a bloody and gory suicide, he saw her sitting at her desk and looking off into the air blankly.

Her eyes were still a slate of nothing; it was like all emotion had been drained from them. The laugh lines that she had developed around her mouth looked like they never existed. Her mouth was in a perpetual neutral position. Her arms were folded across her chest and her legs were crossed. Walking further into the room, Eli noticed that Clare was just staring at a blank part of the wall.

"We really need to talk." He admitted that he sounded needy and that he sounded like he had been crying. Normally Eli would have felt the slightest bit embarrassed at how weak he was sounding. Though, assessing the current situation, he found that being embarrassed at the tone of his voice was not called for.

"I know." Okay, so she was keeping it simple. Their conversation do far never really consisted of more than five words from each. It was like they were _both _afraid to start an actual conversation; they both felt as if they were walking on thin ice among the other.

Before Eli could talk back to her, Clare interrupted. "I'm not a virgin anymore." The words were hard and determined. Like she was trying to tell herself it was no big deal.

Eli shook his head roughly- that was what she was thinking about?

"Clare, you _know _that I didn't base our relationship on _that._" He said, daring her to disagree.

She only let out a little sigh. "I know, I just thought you would want to be informed." Eli was about to reply again when she continued. "Eli, listen. I don't know if you actually wanna keep dating me, but I feel like a wreck right now. I don't like being touched, I have these night mares that . . . "she trailed off, shaking her head and closing her eyes.

Eli shook his head once again, too. "I know that you're not in a good place right now Clare, but I want you to know that my feelings haven't changed at all. I would like to give it a shot, but only if you're comfortable with it." He said solemnly, hoping she would read the sincerity behind each word.

Clare looked up, her face littered with conflicting emotions before she softly replied, "Okay."

…

**Okay, not to sound rude or anything, but I really need you guys to review. I make it a goal to write at least 1,000 words a chapter and I know it's not enough but it's all I can manage. I really want your feedback; I don't know if you like the story or if you've fallen out with it. And thank ourfragilesouls for motivating me to send out this chapter. Like, when I told her I hadn't updated, she glared at me and turned her head. So, ya.**


	5. Chapter 5

_I used to be such a burning example;  
I used to be so original.  
I used to care, I was being cared for.  
Made sure I showed it to those that I love._

It was true that Clare-Saint Clare- had changed.

No longer was she the soft, pale, shy virgin that everyone knew about. She was no longer the girl who always had something to smile about, or the one who would could convert a full on atheist to something as radical as being a Mormon just by talking to you for twenty minutes with those big blue eyes and words that always convinced.

Her skin looked a bit unhealthy, it had transformed from the soft glow of pale skin to the sickly white kind. If you saw her after a shower though, you would notice that her skin was red, raw from all the scrubbing she had done so as to get rid of the eternal feeling of being dirty.

She used to be the one that you could tell for sure was still a virgin. You could just ask anyone in the school about it and they would either raise their eyebrows and say, "Clare Edwards a virgin? What, did you think that ring is for nothing?" or they would reply with a roll of the eyes and a short, clipped "Duh." So it was pretty impossible for people to get it around their heads that Clare was now no longer pure in that area (though not by her own choice).

Her hair had grown longer in her time of absence and before anyone could see how long it was, she took a pair of kitchen scissors to her hair and cut it off without regret. After that, she got into the bathtub and scrubbed her head thoroughly with every shampoo they had in their house; just to try to get rid of the feeling of His hands through her hair.

She no longer ate meat either. Her kidnapper was sick in the mind, discovering uses for human corpses that she could feel bile rise up in her throat when she thought about it. There was one instance where he had put a plate of meat and ordered her to eat it, and he watched her while she did. After she finished half of it, she got fed up with his staring and asked, "What is this meat?" after noticing the odd taste to it.

"Human arm."

That night she mourned for the unknown person she had just unknowingly consumed.

…

The grocery store was a bit of a challenge for Clare. It was a bit shocking to customers to see the girl that was all over the news for weeks to be grocery shopping for her mother.

She tried to ignore the way when mothers saw her, they looked like they were going to cry and she noticed how they would grip their child's hand tighter or they would hug them closer to their chest.

With younger teenage girls, she would notice that they would get this sympathetic look in their eyes and she could see that just seeing her changed a little part of their soul, and she hated how she did that.

Instead of Saint Clare, she was now Clare the Soul Changer.

It didn't feel as good as she thought it would be to change people's outlook on things. Whenever she thought about it before, she would see herself as a missionary somewhere in a third world country, changing the lives of little boys and girls. Instead she was still where she lived and not some do gooder who was twenty something year's old and building houses or schools for kids.

Gripping the plastic grip on the cart tighter, she picked up her pace as she walked down aisle's looking for the sea salt almonds that her mother told her she should try. Damn almonds, being so hard to find.

The store was almost deserted; given as she had arrived here at night because she found since there were less there than no one would give her as many stares as she was uncomfortable with.

Then, she was brought out of her reverie by a song playing from the store speakers.

It wasn't the song that was particularly her favorite, but there was just something about the way it went that she wanted to hum along and sing to. So she found it a little bit surprising as she found herself smiling and singing to herself along with the lyrics. She found the almonds and feeling kind of risky, popped open the canister and plopped them right into her mouth, tasting the best almonds in the world in her opinion.

She heard a movement o the side of the aisle and looked away from the rack to see a young middle school girl staring back at her with large doe eyes; like she was an animal.

Clare could tell right away that the girl recognized her and she decided now was the time to test out a new theory she had come up with a few days ago late at night: smile.

So taking another risk, she let a smile stretch across her face and was greeted by the girl giving her own little timid smile.

The rest of the day, Clare couldn't stop smiling.

….

**Oh my gosh, it's been so long!**

**I am so sorry I have kept you this long and the chapter is short, but I actually seriously promise that I will update soon. I hope you guys review!**


	6. Chapter 6

_Jesus Christ, that's a pretty face_

_The kind you'd find on someone I could save_

_If they don't put me away_

Well, it'll be a miracle

Sitting right there and listening to the pastor overhead talking about how everything is for a reason makes her angry.

Was it not only weeks ago that a member from Friendship Club told her something like this about her parents divorce? Was it only a few weeks ago where she'd just accepted it and moved on, putting faith into something that was told to her by someone who was a year older, tops?

Apparently.

_Well, Jesus Christ, I'm alone again_

_So what did you do those three days you were dead?_

_'cause this problem's gonna last more than the weekend._

Now, sitting uncomfortably in the hard wooden pews that needed cushions, she could easily narrate in her head in a point of view of Eli. He was always so dissmissive about her religion, never bothering to learn enough about it. But ever since she came back there was something different. She had found a _bible _in his room. A bible! The very thought of Eli possessing a bible was surprising, but the idea of him reading it was a whole other factor.

Was he the one having his faith grow stroonger, while hers deteriorated. Unconsciously, she tensed up when the pastor said the two faithful words: His plan.

His plan? Not too quote Eli too much, but His plan _did _suck if it even existed. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her mom noddingher head up and down silently agreeing with him.

The very thought of her mother being okay with what just happened to her made her blood boil.

Not saving any time for apologies or explanations, she simply set her bible down roughly and got up and walked hurriedly out of the church. She could hear the whispers around her and the only response she had to that was thinking "_People suck."_

_I know you're coming in the night like a thief_

_But I've had some time, O Lord, to hone my lying technique_

_I know you think that I'm someone you can trust_

_But I'm scared I'll get scared and I swear I'll try to nail you back up_

She banged on the Goldsworthy's door three times, folding her arms across her chest in frustration when the dorr did not open immmediately. She glanced toward their driveway and noted for the second time that _all three _of the Goldsworthy's cars were there. Mr. Goldsworthy's SUV was there, Mrs. Goldworthy's little bug was at the right, and Eli's hearse was parked out front.

The door swung open and she was greeted by Mrs. Goldworthy- _Ceces's _face.

She watched the transition of mirth to surprise in her eyes. "Clare? To what do owe this pleasure?" she asked, trying to cover for the obvious discombobulation at the site of Eli's girlfriend.

"Can I speak to Eli?" Her voice came out as hard and rough and it sounded like she was on the brink of tears. She cleared her throat and tried not to look into the eyes of Cece, which she was certain held sympathy.

"Of course. He's upstairs." She stepped aside for Clare to walk in, and the pace she took as she made her way up the stairs was too fast to notice the bills scattered on the coffee table and the bottle of beer that rested opened on the table in the dining room.

She tried to be as quiet as she could as she bounded up the stairs, now taking in the sight of the many band posters on the walls that mostly consisted of rock and grunge groups. She also became uncomfortably aware that her parents would never hang up posters, only framed photos of their family or artist's versions of Jesus.

_Jesus my ass, _she thought bitterly.

She stopped at Eli's door. There was no longer a lock on it, but there was afaint wood chipping where you could see the lock hit onto the door if it was slammed. Before opening the door, she could hear melancholy music.

Ususally Eli was wrapped up in his screamo, and the many times she approached his room she could hear men screaming at the top of their lungs about death and misery, with a loud riff of a guitar in the background.

But right now, there was just a soft male voice crooning at the song. It stopped for a few seconds, making her believe it was over, only to have the calm eerie notes of the guitar pick back up in an impromptu solo.

She yanked open the door and saw Eli laying on his bed with his arms behind his head and his eyes closed. When she threw the door closed, his eyes opened quickly and he looked at her in disbelief. She hadn't spoken to them since they're last conversation, and saying as it was a Sunday where she should be at church, he was confused. "Clare?" he questioned.

She folded her arms across her chest and flared her nostrils. "You're right. Who would actally believed that a man created this place, huh? And that some magical guy can just wake up afterr being dead for three days? God, I am so stupid." She threw her hands up in the air. She rubbed her temples, trying to get rid of the headache that the stress had caused her.

Eli slowly stood up, now trying to see the best way to handle this situation the best way. Her hands had moved to her face and the closer he got, he realized that she was crying. He pulled her into a hug, and she immediately hugged him back.

"Clare," he soothed while rubbing her back. "Don't say it. You probably blame Him for the kidnapping, right? Well think of it this way, He put the gun in your hands."

At the mention of the word "Gun" she broke down even more.

"I probably shouldn't even be talking to you about this, but don't give up. There's no words to describe what happened to you- and there's no way in Hell that someone should experience it. But, you have to llok down into yourself and question if you really want to give this big part of you up. You can't just write it off in the heat of the moment. Deep down I know there's a strong Christian in you. Keep it."

_So do you think that we could work out a sign_

_So I'll know it's you_

And that it's over, so I won't even try?

_I know you're comin' for the people like me_

_But we all got wood and nails_

_And turned out a hate factory_

_And we all got wood and nails_

_And turned out a hate factory_

_And we all got wood and nails_

_And we sleep inside of this machine._

…..

**Well, this is for ourfragilesouls who felt like crap today and and for my readers hwo deserve a worthy update. BTW, some people private messaged me and said "what's your inspiration?" and the answer is: pretty much any Brand New song from their album "The Devil and God Are Raging Inside Me" all of their songs are amazing and have such deep emotion, and the don't even rhyme most of time.**


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